


Red Bird’s Broken Wings

by roombaa



Category: Fate/Grand Order, fate series
Genre: F/F, Gilgamesh fucks her up, Hurt/Comfort, Mordred hallucinates and hears voices, PTSD, also also Morry is kinda pyrokinetic cause i like that headcanon, also the FGO place has a cafe for the sake of plot, and less sexual, have y’all ever considered..PTSD Mordred...., her PTSD is bad y’all, he’s rude, i love making her suffer, mama Arturia sounds better, or daddy Arturia??, she also writes about how no one loves her, she needs a hug, she suffers a lot in this, then mama Arturia swoops in, think about it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-17
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2019-06-11 18:41:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15321801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roombaa/pseuds/roombaa
Summary: In which Mordred gets beaten up in a café and saved by an unlikely hero.





	Red Bird’s Broken Wings

The soft tune of smooth jazz played through the café. It was surprising Chaldea had such a place, but the Servants loved it. Usually, it was buzzing with activity, but it was quiet this one evening. The place was almost empty aside from the human at the counter and a lone customer near the corner.

The third addition to the café entered: a scrawny, blonde little thing. Any skin that could be seen was grimy and bruised. Her green eyes were heavy with bags from lack of sleep. She’s wearing some basic clothes, but they looked a little too big on her.

Mordred sat at the counter. Usually, she would wear her weird revealing red garments, but they weren’t on as often anymore. Even the worker at the café noticed this change. Something with the kid looked off. She seemed to be stricken with trauma.

“Tea,” She croaked to the lady behind the counter, who nodded.

Mordred only looked up when a cup and saucer are placed before her. She hummed in thanks and let the steam invade her lungs, almost soothing her.

Out of the corner of her eye, she watched the other person in the bar. Yellow hair, slumped over the table, humming to himself.

When she looked up again, the lady was gone. She shivered and left some money on the counter and her coffee untouched. She slid out of the stool and moved to a darker part of the café, materializing Clarent in her hand. Slowly, she began to approach the man from behind. The lady still wasn’t back. Good enough.

Mordred took a breath, raised the sword, and then hesitated long enough for the blade to be grabbed by golden gauntlets, then her brittle wrists.

“How rude,” Gilgamesh spoke.

Mordred is too shocked to voice her distress. Her eyes are wide and bulging, but she tries to struggle, not wanting to give in this easily. She grinds her teeth together and breathed a plume of fire at Gilgamesh. This makes him let go and step back. The flame is weak and small.

“Do you greet everyone like that?” The man asked, obviously trying to set her off again.

It did.

Mordred lunges forward to attack, fire blazing at her lips, but saw the gleam of a spear and heard the ugly, familiar sound of bones cracking. Something connected with her chest; she was on the ground, little starbursts flitting in and out of her vision.

“Hurts, doesn’t it?”

Gilgamesh grabbed her by the head, hooking his fingers in the red hot crevices, making his victim whine in pain. Dry embers fell from her mouth.

“It was just trying to enjoy a drink, and then you come along and ruin my break. That’s all you do, really. You mess everything up from what I heard. Even all the knights here shunned you, huh?”

He shakes her head wildly for a moment before letting go, watching her slump to the ground.

Mordred feels dazed. Her right ear was ringing painfully, while the other leaked blood. She’s crying, maybe. Clawing at the floorboards, writhing around like she’s trying to wiggle out of her own skin. She’s soon gasping and wheezing in the midst of pain. Red bubbles from her lips and she chokes on her struggle. It makes Gilgamesh laugh.

“Go ahead,” He taunted. “Bleed out and die, see if it changes anything. Let’s see if it makes anyone care. When you get back, your world will still be horrible. The hallucinations and voices aren’t going to go away.”

How did he know about that?

Mordred was being haunted by the people she had killed. They invaded her dreams and soon leaked into reality. She had tried so desperately to fend the faceless people off, but her efforts were useless. And, with nobody to comfort her, her condition grew worse. Nobody liked the girl who committed genocide for such a stupid reason.

“You are garbage.”

Gilgamesh’s boot connected to Mordred’s chin with a crunch. It made everything go dark for a moment. He was stepping on her tiny, frail body, digging his heel in. He only stops when he sees her eyes shutting.

“Hey, stay with me! I’m not done having fun with y- What is it now?”

Gilgamesh looked up sharply in the direction of the entrance.

“Oh, hello, beautiful.~”

Mordred heard a familiar voice, but it was too muffled to fully make out thanks to her ringing ears.

“Okay! Okay! I get it!”

Gilgamesh began to walk away as a new pair of footsteps approached.

“I weakened her for you. Do what you want! Bye now!”

Mordred was could barely even see anymore. She saw boots stop in front of her before blackness took over.

———

Arturia doesn’t know what made her want to help the one who destroyed her kingdom and slaughtered her people like cattle. And yet, here she was, cradling Mordred in her arms. The child is trembling horribly, unconscious. Nightingale had stitched up the gash in her head.

“I didn’t think she would suffer from trauma.” Arturia admitted to the medic.

“It’s probably a surprise to everyone.” Nightingale said. “They probably think a killer couldn’t be affected. Your little one seems to be one of the few who regret what she did.”

‘Her little one’?

Arturia looks down at Mordred, scanning her pale features. Was she really going to take the bastard child in because of these circumstances?

“Thank you, Nightingale.”

The king dipped her head in thanks before walking out of the medical wing. She went to Mordred’s room and put her in the bed. That’s the last time she would touch the kid’s filthy body.

She turned to leave, but something caught her eye.

On a small table in the almost bare room are drawings. Scribbled all over the paper are words written in various colors. Things like “You will never be loved” and “Nobody wants you” were on the sheets. They were all horribly negative, needling Mordred like thousands of daggers. But she was doing this to herself. She wrote all of this.

Arturia scoured the papers, reading each and every one. They broke her heart. She looked over at Mordred, who was twitching and crying in her sleep. Another nightmare.

This poor child wanted nothing more than to have someone who loved her. All those times she approached Arturia wasn’t about the throne; she just wanted a hug or at least some helpful words. And what did Arturia do? She yelled. She yelled at the kid until she was in tears and scampered away like an abused puppy. No wonder her trauma was so bad. 

Arturia moved over to the bed and gently scooped Mordred back into her arms. She stroked her tangled blonde hair, soothing her softly.

“Shh, shh,” She murmured. “I’ve got you... It’s okay.”

She rocked the child gently. Mordred’s jerking had stopped, but she was still shivering. Arturia never realized how bad her night terrors had been before.

“You’re okay, sweetie,” She cooed softly. “It’s not real. You’re okay. Everything is alright.”

Arturia hoped her words would reach Mordred. If they didn’t, she would just have to wait until she woke up. She couldn’t let her child be alone anymore.


End file.
